How the Mighty have Fallen
by fudgemonkey878
Summary: They were the strong, the obsolete, the victors, but each and everyone of them have fallen. Fallen into their own worlds of insanity and hurt. Angst. Each chapter a new victor or tribute.
1. Johanna

Pain.

One word. That's all that she felt right now. Pain.

Pain from the loss of her innocence when she competed in the Hunger Games.

Pain from having her family killed because she refused to be a sex slave for the Capitol.

Pain from everything.

But mostly pain from the shocks.

From behind her eyelids she can see the sparks from the cables, and the rods, the machinery, and the spark of malice and enjoyment in the eyes of those who would shock her time and time again.

_Snap out of it Johanna. _She thought to herself viciously. _You're not a weakling. You will not snivel and subject yourself to wallowing in self pity. You are strong. You are obsolete. You are Johanna Mason._

But even the strongest have their limit before they start to break and fall to pieces.

For Annie it was her games. She was so strong during them, taking everything that the Capitol dished out at her. Enduring the feeling of starvation and dehydration, the feeling of your opponents' blood on yourself, the feeling of dread and self-loathing for killing them. She was so strong and endured all of that for so long.

Until she went insane that is.

For Finnick, it was when the Capitol took Annie and not him. She saw him when she woke up from before. The crazed look in his eyes looking down at her in the hospital bed, the guilt that wracked his face because he wasn't there to suffer with her or instead of her, he broke. He seemed to have pieced himself back together now that he had Annie in his arms, but how long would it last? How did he know that Annie would make it through the Rebellion? If she didn't, then he would be back piecing himself together, but who knew if he would accomplish it.

For Haymitch it was when he watched Tribute after tribute die in the arena after getting attached to them and mentoring them and doing his best to make sure that they didn't die. He broke under the grief of it all and turned to alcohol.

The strongest all fall at some point in time, so why should she be any different? Why should she be the only one to escape from the fall?

She was pathetic, worthless, weak, a burden.

She was Johanna Mason.

And she had finally broken.


	2. Peeta

_Kill her. She's a mutt. A stinking mutt that was created to kill you._

"What do you want for lunch Peeta?"

_Her back is turned right now. Just take a knife from the drawer and drive it through her back. She'd do the same thing to you._

"Would you like lamb or turkey on your sandwich?"

_Kill her._

"Peeta?"

_KILL HER NOW!_

Katniss turned around to face him and she gasped. "Peeta!"

He clutched the back of one of their kitchen chairs. His grip was so tight that each of his knuckles stood out white against his skin. His breathing was shallow and his blue eyes were crazed. "You're a mutt." He said in a strained voice to Katniss. "Real or not real."

Katniss took a cautious step towards him and said in a calm and soothing voice, "Not real. I'm not a mutt. I'm Katniss Everdeen, human citizen of District 12, winner of the 74th Hunger Games with you, participate in the 75th Quarter Quell, Mockingjay in the Rebellion, and your fiancée." She rattled off the information as if she said it every day.

Peeta visibly relaxed as she said the information. Katniss took a slow step towards him and he closed the gap between them. "I'm sorry." He whispered into her hair. "I'm sorry that I have to get you to say all of that each time I…"

"It's okay." She whispered back into his chest. "If it keeps you here with me I'll do it thousands and thousands of times more."

She didn't notice him stiffen at that prospect. He didn't want to have her have to prattle off that information thousands and thousands of more times. He wanted the memories to be erased and his past forgotten. He wanted to be able to siphon all of the bad memories and created dears from his mind and Katniss'. He wanted them to have a normal relationship where he didn't have to ask "Real or not real" every time he became confused and Katniss didn't have to make a list in her head or wake up screaming from a nightmare.

But none of that could ever happen.

Because he was Peeta Mellark.

And he had been hijacked.


	3. Annie

_He isn't coming for you Annie and he never will._

_Why would he? He never loved you, he just toyed with you._

Stop it.

_How could he love you compared to all of those Capital women that throw themselves at his feet._

_How could you compare to them? An ugly, simple, plain, poor, insane, and drab girl as you, how could you compare to their stunning beauty and charm. Finnick obviously sees no comparison since it's them that he takes to bed and not you..._

No…it's not true. Finnick loves me.

_A god like him, how could he love you? How could he love someone with as many imperfections as you? How could he love someone as worthless as you? _

Because he's Finnick, Finnick loves me. He told me so…

_It was all a game. A game of pity. Pity for the poor insane girl in love with him, how could he love you? A game, that's all that it is. He will not come to save you and he never will because none if it was real, because it was all a game._

"No!" She woke up crying the word over and over again like a mantra. "No, no, no. It's not true." She whispered quietly to the dark room. "It's not true. Finnick loves me. Finnick loves me." She curled up into a ball in the hospital bed that she was sleeping in. Tubes snaked around her arms that pumped in fluids into her body. Tangled together they resembled snakes and they sprang to life around her arms. Slithering and staring at her with their black beady eyes. She gave a whimper and clutched her head between her hands. She closed her eyes and counted to ten slowly in her head. That's what Finnick told her to do when she starts to lose her grip on reality. She opened her eyes and the snakes were gone, but the whispering thoughts were still lingering in her head. "It's not real." She whispered over and over again. "It's not real. It's not real."

But in her mind it was real, and she couldn't escape the thoughts no matter how much she tried.

She was Anie Cresta.

And she was insane.


	4. Haymitch

Where was a bottle of alcohol when you needed it?

Another year, another reaping, another two tributes, another year of watching said tributes die.

It was a cycle that repeated itself again, and again, and again, with no chance of it ever stopping.

Winner of the second Quarter Quell? Pfft. He wasn't the winner of anything. What did he win from that Quarter Quell? A big, fancy, and empty house for him to live in alone. A dead mother, brother, and girlfriend. The loneliness knowing that he can never get involved with someone ever again unless he wanted them to die by Snow's hands. Nightmares that plague him in the night as he sees Maysilee Donner die again and again before his eyes. What did he gain by winning the Quarter Quell?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He would have been better off dying in the arena than toughing it out and winning.

So he reaches for that bottle of alcohol at every chance that he gets, it dulls the pain, it makes him less aware, and it keeps the nightmares away a bit.

But it's only a temporary fix. No matter what everything always comes back to him and haunts him in every sleeping and waking moment.

A cycle that repeats over and over again that will never break. A perfect system of torment, a complete circle. No flaws, no chinks, nothing that could possibly make it so that he can escape from his pain and loneliness.

To think that he had once been strong enough to win the Quarter Quell and then actually try to mentor tributes who were given to him.

He was Haymitch Abernathy.

And he was pathetic.


	5. Gale

**I know that Gale isn't a victor, but he's been through so much that he was the perfect character to write an angst for, even more perfect than Katniss whose the main character through out the whole series.**

* * *

He was an absolutely despicable person. There was no fact denying it no matter what people might say. He had broken so many laws in District 12, mostly for his survival though so he didn't think those counted, but he was openly a part of the rebellion. He had killed so many people with his gun and his bow, and he had enjoyed it. The feeling of having them die before his hands, he relished it. He loved the fact that the Capitol people had finally gotten what they deserved by dying. It was their judgement for sending kids into the Hunger Games each year, and then enjoying watching them die. It was divine judgement where the role was thrust upon him to deliver that judgement.

At least that's what he told himself. It was much easier to say that then say that he enjoyed killing them because of what they've done.

But Capitol people weren't the only people that he'd killed. He'd designed traps to capture the Nut. A plan of execution instead of a plan of capture. That design only led to more designs, which then only lead to _her _death, which then only led to him hating himself more and more.

Prim.

He killed her.

It was his entire fault that she was dead.

The brain child that he created with Beetee, it killed her.

He lost them both that day, both Prim and Katniss.

So he moved to District Two. Away from his family, away from his old district, away from Katniss, away from Peeta so he didn't have to see every day that he was chosen instead of himself, away from the pain of knowing that Prim's death was his fault. He would appear on television every now and then because of his job. He eventually got a girlfriend, but she wasn't the same as Katniss. He didn't get the same feeling when he kissed her, and she didn't know him, couldn't tell what he was thinking by the way his hand twitched. It wasn't the same as when he was with Katniss.

Katniss would never talk to him again, how would she be able to? The brief time that he saw her before she shot Coin, she couldn't look at him properly. When he looked into her beautiful grey eyes, he saw disdain, hate, pain, insanity, despair, and he was the cause of it all.

He couldn't face his family; he could face Rory, not after he killed the girl that he loved.

Funny how both Hawthorns fell for both Everdeen.

No, not funny, ironic. That was the word that he was looking for. Irony, it was such a creul thing.

Not that it mattered anymore. Katniss would never talk to him again after what he did, after he killed her little sister, and Rory would never be able to talk to Prim again because he killed her. Pain rippled through him at the reminder and he fell into despair again.

He was despicable. He had killed Prim, killed countless of other people with his brain child, killed many Capitol people with the pretense that they had tried to harm him, but he killed them only because they were from the Capitol. Why did they deserve to live in such comfort while the rest of us starved and died? Those thoughts were in his head before he would kill them. He was responsible for the death of so many people and it sickened him.

He was Gale Hawthorne.

And he was a murderer.


	6. Mags

She wanted to die.

Year after year she wanted to die.

Seeing those children being sent to their deaths, it sickened her.

Seeing her tributes kill the others with their weapons easily while enjoying it. It saddened her.

The Hunger Games, what a monstrosity.

She'd be lying if she said that she wasn't relieved when it was his tributes that came back as the victors in the end. She knew them from town, she mentored them, she became close to them and shared sugar cubes with them. It would be a lie to say that she wasn't happy when they came back home.

But at the same time, she couldn't get over the feelings of hate that she felt for them because they killed other children who had hopes and dreams just like them. Even when she looked at Finnick, who was like a grandson to her, she just couldn't get past those feelings of loathing.

When she looked in the mirror she wished that she would finally die from old age. She wished that she could just disappear from the world. She wished that she could turn back the hands of time and die in her games.

Then she would remember the rebellion and how she still had to mentor Finnick through it, to keep him from losing his head.

She was Mags.

And she was so confused.


	7. Finnick

_She's __suffering; she's suffering because of you._

_They didn't take her because she knew any rebel information, she didn't even know about the rebels. They took her to punish you, to show you that you're powerless, that you're weak._

_That you're only a lowly human Finnick._

_A lowly human unable to protect the girl that you love._

_You did everything you could to keep her from danger. You didn't tell her that the rebels existed, when you weren't alone you would keep up the appearance of a caring child hood friend taking pity for the poor insane girl. Even when you were sure that the room wasn't bugged, you were still careful with how you acted around her._

_So why did they take her and not you?_

The thoughts spiraled around his head and he began to cry, again. He had been doing that so much lately. He would cry, cry, and cry at the very thought of her in the Capitol. In a matter of minutes he fell to pieces.

Thousands and thousands of little pieces. Ach one a glittering piece of his personality. His caring, his sarcasm, his seductiveness, his sanity, his secrets. Everything in a tiny piece of it's own in plain view.

It was so easy for him to fall to pieces, but now he had the challenge of putting himself back together.

Piece by painstaking piece he put himself back together. He had to be presentable, he had to be strong, and he had to be Finnick.

_But look where being Finnick got you. _A voice whispered in his head. _In a Rebel District stuck in a cozy hospital being taken care of while she's in the Capitol being punished for your actions and tortured for information that she doesn't have._

He fell apart again, how could he not?

Annie was in the Capitol, and he couldn't even do anything with the rebellion to take his mind off her because each action of his that helps the rebellion will end up in her punishment. He couldn't do that to her.

He looked at the scattered pieces of himself, and thought about how much harder it got each time to put himself back together. It would be so much simpler to just let himself stay like this.

He wondered sometimes whatever happened to the brave Finnick who would have stormed the Capitol already demanding for Annie's release. What happened to the man who won the Hunger Games? What happened to the man who put up with what Snow told him to do, and put on a brave face? What happened to the man who was able to hide all of his pain and anguish? Where was he, because Finnick could sure as hell use that man right now? He was gone, and all that was left was a weak version of him.

He was Finnick Odair.

And he was shattered and useless.


	8. Katniss

_She killed all of them._

_Dozens and dozens of people were closing in on her. Shout __obscenities at her, telling the truth that she tried to bury, making her confront what she had really done. A sea of people whose death's she was responsible for._

"_I thought we were friends!" Madge screamed accusingly._

"_Katniss." Prim __cried anguished. "Why did you have to start the Rebellion? Why did you have to be at the beginning of why I was killed?"_

"_I can never see my darling boy again!" Peeta's mother shrieked._

"_I was just eating breakfast and you shot me!" A Capitol woman she had killed screeched. "What did I do to you?"_

_Her face drained of colour as someone stepped out from the sea of faces. "Katniss." He whispered. His green eyes were full of sorrow and hate. "Katniss, why did you leave me down there? Why did you __leave me to the lizards? Why Katniss? Why!"_

_She was backed into a corner and they just kept on coming and coming. Her inner fears and demons just kept on advancing closer to her, all the while screaming at her for killing them._

"_I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She whispered over and over again to the mob of people that she had killed because of her actions._

"_Sorry won't bring us back!" Mags said in her incoherent way of talking; only this time Katniss understood her too well._

"_Katniss!" They all said over and over again._

"Katniss!"

"_Why did you kill us?"_

"Katniss! Wake up!"

"_Murderer! You're a murderer!"_

"Katniss! Katniss please wake up!"

_Finnick focused his sea green eyes on her again and said in a haunting voice. "Kat__niss Everdeen. The Girl on Fire, the murderer, the face of the rebellion, the Mockingjay."_

"KATNISS!"

Her crazed grey eyes flew open in a panic and she lashed out on all sides, arms and legs flailing.

"Katniss! Katniss! It's okay. It's okay, it's not real, and whatever you saw it's not real. Shh, Shh." Peeta whispered into her ear, trying to restrain her flailing limbs. "It's okay, I'm here, I'm here."

Gradually she calmed down. Katniss looked at Peeta and saw that his face was bruised, no doubt from her. "I'm sorry Peeta." She whispered heart broken. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault Katniss, we all have our moments where we lapse, I have them more often than you." He said trying to joke with her, but after seeing her face he fell into somber silence.

It was true, but it still didn't placate her, she still felt guilty inside. "I'm sorry." She whispered again, but this time it wasn't to Peeta. This time it was to all of the people that she had killed. To Prim and Finnick, Madge and Boggs, Peeta's mother, Messala, there were too many people to name. Too many people to apologize to. Too many people that she had murdered.

Katniss and Peeta sat in silence for a while before Peeta asked softly, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Katniss shrugged out of his embrace and rolled over onto her side. "No." She told him in a haunted voice.

Peeta rubbed circles on her back which called her down a little, but it couldn't erase the image of all those people that she had killed. "It'll be alright Katniss; the nightmares will go away soon enough."

They were empty words, and Katniss knew it. It had been ten years since the rebellion, twelve since she had first gone into the arena, and fourteen years since her father had died. Still, the nightmares hadn't stopped, and she doubted that they ever would.

How could they stop when she couldn't look at herself or Peeta without remembering their days in the arena? How could she forget when fire flickered behind her eyelids at every moment, reminding her of the bomb that killed Prim? Her mother was gone, she was in District Four working in a hospital so she wouldn't have to go back to District Twelve and face the memories of Prim and her father. How could the nightmares stop when everywhere she looked she was reminded somehow of the horrible deeds that she had done, or of Prim, or of anything else that would send her spiraling down into the deep dark depths of despair? Even Peeta couldn't keep away the nightmares anymore.

She remembered their time together on the train during their Victory Tour and on the way to the Capitol for the Quarter Quell. She was safe inside his arms as he kept the nightmares at bay with his reassuring presence. While his presence was still reassuring, it didn't keep the nightmares at bay, not often. Occasionally she would get a good night sleep thanks to him, but more than not he would have to drag her from her treacherous sleep. She had no refuge from the nightmares; she couldn't even go to the woods anymore, not without being reminded of Gale.

Gale.

She missed him.

She missed his presence and how he knew all about her and how he could tell how she was feeling from a twitch of her arm. She missed how they would hunt together, a perfectly coordinated team. Peeta could never replace him, Peeta could never tell how she was feeling by the twitch of her arm, and he certainly couldn't hunt like Gale. Gale's silent tread, his ability with snares, his grey eyes intense as he waited for the rabbits to come by so he could shoot them, Peeta could never do that, he could never replace Gale.

But she never asked for Peeta to replace Gale, all she had asked of him was to be there for her.

Still though, sometimes, Peeta wasn't enough. Sometimes she just longed for someone that understood her just as well as herself.

She was Katniss Everdeen.

And she was without refuge.


	9. Foxface

**So basically I've run out of tributes to write about. All the ones where we have ****substantial info on them have already been written about, so I'm going to move onto tributes and other characters in the Hunger Games trilogy. If there's a person from the series that you'd like to request that I write, leave it in a review. **

_Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why did you pick the berries! Why did you eat them so willingly!_

Her logic had been perfectly planned out, follow Lover Boy and Fire Girl and see what they eat. Fire Girl seemed to have an extensive knowledge of plants from what she had seen in training, and she would've taught that to Lover Boy.

She of course hadn't taken into account that Lover Boy might have a brain of his own, that he might be able to setup a trap for her.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid girl! _She cursed herself again.

She had expected when she died that she would feel her body going numb and cold, but au contraire to what she originally though, her body was heating up. Searing fire coursed through her veins and she resisted the urge to scream. If there was a chance that she might survive this, she wouldn't give away her position.

_How fitting, _she though grimly to herself, _I'm dying right now because of Fire Girl and Lover Boy, and it seems that fire is coursing through my veins right now._

Black spots danced in front of her eyes and her chest constricted. Falling to the ground she clawed in front of her, desperately searching for something that could help her. Her canteen to quench the burning inside of her, her pack that had a basic medical kit, something, anything.

But she grasped nothing; her hands only met dirt and air as her vision tunneled.

"Crap." She whispered aloud despairingly as she burned on the ground. "I really thought that I could win."

She was Foxface.

And she had finally been outsmarted.


	10. Primrose

Life was cruel.

That was the lesson that Prim had grown up knowing her entire life.

In Panem there was no such thing as happily ever after unless you lived in the Capitol. Those who lived in any of the twelve districts would suffer their entire lives and would never get a happily ever after.

Of course she didn't always use to think like that. There was a time when Primrose Everdeen used to believe that she would someday meet the man of her dreams who would give her a happily ever after.

Before her father died, he would sing her lullabies before she went to bed. Lullabies that promised a better tomorrow, of true love, of a happily ever after.

When he died, her belief of that was shaken. How could she have a happily ever after if the man who promised them to her was dead? She pressed on though, she refused to believe that she wouldn't get a happily ever after. In memory of her father she refused to defile his memory and doubt him. She refused to doubt what her father had told her.

As she watched District Twelve be destroyed by bombs though, her image of a happily ever after was shattered.

How could she have her happily ever after if there was no place to have it?

The place where she was supposed to have her happily ever after was burning to the ground. The flames licked at the buildings hungrily and they devoured all in their oath within minutes. There had been so much coal dust in District Twelve; it had been all too easy for the flames to spread everywhere.

Tears fell down her face as she watched her home burn to the ground. "How could this happen?" She whispered despaired.

"It's all you sister's fault!" A woman hissed at her. "All you sister's fault that our home is now burning. If your sisters hadn't fired that arrow then we'd all still be in our houses right now, instead of watching our town and loved ones burn!" The woman's black hair was disheveled and her brown eyes were filed with tears.

"Hey!" Gale told the woman defensively. "Don't talk to her like that! What Katniss did has nothing to do with Prim!"

"Yes it does!" The woman screeched back at Gale. "If that girl had gone into the Hunger games like she was originally supposed to, none of this would have happened! Her sister would never have gone into the arena at all, and we never would be watching our home burn to the ground!"

The realization hit Prim and her legs gave out as she collapsed to her knees in agony. Was it really all her fault that her friends were dying right now? Was it her fault that District Twelve was burning to the ground right now? Her silent tears turned into outright sobbing as she covered her face with her hands. Her home was gone, her sister could very well be dead, her friends were burning to death at this very moment, and the boy she wished would comfort her, made no inclination to move towards her.

She glanced wishfully at Rorey, wishing with all her heart that he would move towards her and wrap his arms around her in a comforting hug all the while whispering words of comfort to her.

As she watched him though she only saw him staring at the flames with an empty look on his face.

_It's my entire fault. _Prim thought horrified. _It's my entire fault that Rorey is like that right now. My entire fault, all my fault…_

She was Primrose Everdeen.

And she would never get her happily ever after.


	11. Brutus

As soon as they announced the second Quarter Quell Brutus knew what he was going to do.

After living the life of a victor, he knew what he should do, what he had do.

He had to volunteer for the Quarter Quell.

It was such a perfect opportunity, such a gloriously perfect opportunity.

After winning the Hunger Games he had wished that he could go back into them right away. He wished that he could still feel the blood of his opponents on his hands. He wished that he could still see the light leave from their eyes, and then smile cruelly as he thought about the families in mourning. He wanted to hear the screams of fear and pain, and he wanted to have that glorious moment when he was crowned victor.

However, there was one thing that he wanted more than that.

He wanted to die in the heat of battle, going out with a bang. Dying where everyone could see. He didn't want to have a peaceful death in his District, no; he wanted a death that people would remember. A battle with blood and sweat flying, where you could see the desperation, he wanted to die that way.

So when the Quarter Quell was announced and he heard that the tributes would be from the pool of Victors, Brutus knew that he was going to volunteer. He was going to go back into that arena and relive the glorious moments where your life is in the palm of your hand.

He was Brutus.

And he was ready to die.


	12. Wiress

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

She knew right after the rain of blood came.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

The new horror that the Gamesmakers had come up with for the Quarter Quell.

Tick tock.

A giant clock where each hour there was a new horror for them to face.

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

Why couldn't the others see it? Blight had died before she had been given the chance to explain, and Johanna wasn't listening to her. She was Nuts after all, no one understood her besides Beetee.

Tick. Tock.

Beetee. Would he make it out alive? He had been stabbed, and hadn't woken up at all. He had been stabbed for his wire, his ingenious wire that would win him the Games. That would get them out of the Games. That would start the rebellion.

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick. Tock.

Why couldn't Beetee be awake right now? If he was awake then he would understand exactly what she was saying. He would be able to tell Johanna and she would believe him. He may be Volts, but she was Nuts. Johanna would believe him so much more than she would believe her.

Tick tock. Tick tock tick tock.

When would Johanna understand? Would she understand?

_Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock._

She had to understand what she was trying to say. She had to understand that the arena was a giant clock this year. She had to, other wise, she would end up dead.

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

How much longer would it be before someone understood her, how much longer?

_._

She was Wires.

And she was running out of time.


	13. Beetee

He had expected this to happen for a while. After all, they were old and in the Hunger Games. There had been no guarantee that the two of them would get out alive.

It still didn't ease the pain though.

It didn't ease the pain of knowing that he would never see Wiress again, that he would never finish her sentences for her, that he would never have an equal to collaborate with again. It hurt; it hurt like hell knowing that he would never see her again.

He stared at the golden wire in his hands. Fine as hair, golden as the rising sun, it reminded him of her.

The name, Wiress, and he was holding wire, it was just a constant reminded of her.

He put the wire away and stared out into the salt water of the arena, closing his eyes and wishing it all away. Wishing that she was back here with him, wishing that he wasn't in the Games, wishing, just wishing.

He opened his eyes though, and saw that none of his wished had come true. He was still in the arena, and Wiress was still dead.

He was Beetee.

And he was lonely.


	14. Chaff

Toss. Turn. Wake up in a cold sweat. Go back to sleep. Toss. Turn. Wake up in a cold sweat. Go back to sleep.

It was an endless cycle that repeated itself.

He would bid good night to daughter and go to his room, alone since her mother had died a year ago, and then try to escape into the confines of sleep.

But that escape never came.

He would toss and turn in his sleep, reliving the moments of his Games, reliving the moments when he turned himself into a monster. He would relive the moment when he was crowned Victor and wished with all his might that he had died.

Then he would wake up in a cold sweat, his fists so tight that sometimes he drew blood, not knowing where he was. Heart pounding, shallow breathing, panicking and wondering when the next tribute would jump out for him to kill, until he would calm down.

Then he would try to get back to sleep only for the cycle to resume, hour after hour after hour. Finally it would be morning and he would get up to greet the new day.

He could never shake off the nightmares though, never get them out of his mind. They would always linger, pressing at him, taunting him, telling him this is what you've done before, this is who you are.

They were right to say that whatever doesn't kill you in reality kills you in your dreams.

He was Chaff.

And he was scared.


	15. Seeder

_You can't keep anyone alive._

_When's the last time that there's been a Victor from District 11 Seeder?_

_32 years ago. That was the last time there was a Victor from District 11._

_You're a failure Seeder. A failure of a mentor. You've never managed to keep any of your tributes alive. The last time there was a Victor you weren't mentoring. You're a failure._

Seeder did nothing to deny these thoughts that would spiral through her head, because they were true. How could she deny them when she had never managed to bring a child home when she was mentoring? Year after year she would watch them die on screen, and year after year she would sink deeper into the depths of despair.

She could remember every one of the children that she had mentored. Their names, their ages, and how they died. Molly Skinner, 14, she died in the blood bath. Josephine Fink, 17, she died from starvation. Hudson Prutton, 12, the Careers dismembered him. River Thatch, 18 one more year and he would have been free from the Hunger Games, he came so close to winning, he was in the final eight, but that was the year there was a flood and he drowned. Bluebell Howell, 16, she died from dehydration. John James, 13, bloodbath. Willow Francis, 15, bloodbath. Sebastian Stevens, 17, he was eaten alive by carnivorous squirrels. Zachery Heart, 12, bloodbath.

Too many names to list, too many nightmares and memories for her to remain sane.

She was a failure of a mentor; she couldn't keep a single child alive. Their faces would dance behind her eyelids whenever she closed her eyes, and she could see the accusation, the fear, the anger, the hurt.

_I'm sorry. _She thought. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I couldn't keep you alive. I'm sorry._

She was Seeder.

And she was incompetent.


	16. Titus

It was wrong and he knew it, deep down inside he knew that he was in the wrong, but how could he stop now? It called to him, reeled him in until he was stuck and had no way out.

It had all started out so innocent, so simple. He was hungry and had just killed someone. He was hungry, and there was meat just lying there for him to eat. He was hungry, so he ate their heart.

It was delicious.

The feeling of having blood drip down his chin as he bit into the heart of the victim he had killed, watching the horrified look of his District partner as he ate the heart, looking at the body of his victim and seeing that gaping hole.

It drove him mad. Mad with a thirst for more.

Empty handed he didn't feel right. He wheeled around to his district partner and strangled her to death, he didn't give her a chance to grab her weapons, he just strangled her and relished watching her eyes roll back and her face turn red as her lips were tinged with blue. Dropping her to the ground he saw the blue and purple bruises that his hands had left on her neck. He stroked them tenderly, she should have been honored that he took the time to kill her with his bare hands, he had killed her himself and not by using a knife, but now he would use his knife.

He plunged it into her chest and carved out her chest. Right where her heart was he carved a heart shaped hole and ripped his prize out.

Her heart tasted even better than his first victim's.

When he finished he wiped his mouth, picked up his knife and set off in search of new prey. More flesh, more hearts, more food, the thirst would be quenched, he would be filled, he would be whole.

He was Titus.

And he was hungry.


	17. Snow

He was in the wrong and he knew it. He was wrong, he was wrong, he was completely and utterly wrong.

It wasn't right to send 24 children each year to battle ach other to the death. It was wrong, completely and utterly wrong.

But it was so entertaining.

Watching them battle it out, seeing the Careers slicing those Seam kids, the sight of bright crimson blood that reminded him of so much of the blood he would cough up himself. Seeing the mad gleam in their eyes as they transformed from timid children, to men and women, to victors.

Just look at Johanna Mason, at the very beginning she was a sniveling coward who had no chance of winning whatsoever, but then she blossomed. She shed her cocoon and stepped out into the real world of a victor and killed them all. She won it all thanks to her transformation.

It was beautiful, a work of art, a masterpiece.

He enjoyed destroying it when she refused his offer.

Those victors only lived to please the people of the Capitol in every way shape and form. That Johanna girl refusing that job, he had enjoyed crushing her.

He had relished the look on her face as he shot her family before her very eyes; he had felt no remorse whatsoever, only satisfaction that she would never defy him again.

He felt nothing when he killed the families of those victors, but whenever he sent those kids in each year; he felt a twinge of guilt, of sadness.

But it passed over him so quickly he wasn't even sure it was there in the first place.

He was Snow.

And he was a monster.

**I thought that it would be fitting to end this story off with Snow since he's really at the beginning of all of pain of everyone in this story. This is officially the last chapter and thank you to everyone for sticking around with this story as I updated regularly, and then disappeared off the face of the planet. Thank you again, and I'm really curious as to which chapter was your favourite, please tell me in a review. **

**:) :) :) *fudgemonkey878* :) :) :)**


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